orth of mine--dead or alive, I'll get
it. Now go home and let me alone, I'm tired."

But Sears still hesitated.

"That's all right, Judge," he said. "You've got the right to spend your
own money, I presume likely, so I won't say a word; although I may have
my own opinion as to your judgment in spendin' it. But there's one more
thing I can't quite get over. Here am I, about third mate's helper
aboard that Harbor craft, bein' paid fifteen hundred a year, and that
girl--as fine, capable, sensible--er--er--nice girl as ever lived, I do
believe--workin' her head off and runnin' the whole ship, as you might
say, and bein' paid nothin' at all. It isn't right. It isn't square. I
won't stand it. I'll heave up my commission and you pay her the fifteen
hundred. _She_ earns it."

Silence. Then another slow chuckle from the bed.

"Humph!" grunted Judge Knowles. "'Fine, capable, sensible, nice--'
Getting pretty enthusiastic, aren't you, Kendrick? He, he, he!"

Taken by surprise, and suddenly aware that he had spoken very
emphatically, the captain blushed, and felt, himself a fool for so
doing.

"Why--I--I--" he stammered, then laughed, and declared stoutly, "I don't
care if I am. That girl deserves all the praise anybody's got aboard.
She's a wonder, that's what she is. And she isn't bein' treated right."

The answer was of a kind quite unexpected.

"Well," rasped the judge, "who said she was?"

"Eh? What----"

"Who said she was? Not I. Don't you suppose I know what Elizabeth Berry
is worth to Lobelia Seymour's idiot shop over yonder? And what she
gets--or doesn't get? And didn't I tell you that her father was my best
friend? Then.... Oh, well! Kendrick, you go back to your job. And don't
you fret about that girl. What she doesn't get now she.... Humph! Clear
out, and don't worry me any more. Good night."

So the captain departed. In a way his mind was more at rest. He was
nearer to being reconciled to the fifteen hundred a year now that he
knew it was not to come from the funds of the Fair Harbor. Judge Knowles
was reputed to be rich. If he chose to pay a salary to gratify a
whim--why, let him. He, Kendrick, would do his best to earn that salary.
But, nevertheless, he did not intend to let Elizabeth Berry remain under
any misapprehension as to where the salary was coming from. He would
tell her the next time they met. A new thought occurred to him. Why not
tell her then--that very evening? It was not late, only about ni